Cp970.7l 


c-V 


ADDR-SS  CF  HON.  T.  W.  MASON 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 


From  the  Library  of 
Hugh  Talmage  Lefler 


A  gift  of  his  sons 

Hugh  Talmage  Lefler,  Jr. 

and 

Charles  Deems  Lefler 

CP970.76  /  MU1  /  c.U 


M+1 


c.4- 

ADDRESS 


HON.  T.  W.  MASON, 


BEFORE   TnK 


LADIES'  MEMORIAL  ASSOCIATION, 


AT   THE   LAVTJCG   OF   THE 


COBNER-STONE  OF  THE  CONFEDERATE  MONUMENT, 


RALEIGH,  N.  C,  MAY  20.  1895. 


RALEIGH,  N.  C. 

£.    M.    I'UBIX,   PRINT  E*  AMD  BINDER 

1S9S. 


ADDRESS 


HON.  T.  W.  MASON, 


BEFORE   TITR 


LADIES'  MEMORIAL  ASSOCIATION, 


AT   THE   LATINO   OF   THE 


CORNER-STONE  OF  THE  CONFEDERATE  MONUMENT, 


RALEIGH,  N.  C,  MAY  20,  1895. 


RALEIGH,  N.  C. : 

£.    M.    T.  ZZELL,    PRINTER    AMD   BINDER, 

I89S. 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2011  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/addressofhontwmaOOmaso 


ADDRESS. 


Mrs.  Preside))!  and  Ladies  of  the  Monumental  Association,  Veter- 
ans of  the  Confederacy,  Ladies  and  Gentlemen : 

North  Carolina  bids  us  pause  to-day  aud  consider  the 
memory  of  her  soldiers,  those  whom  she  gave  to  the  Con- 
federacy. 

I  know  that  you  are  busy  with  your  affairs;  that  the 
demands  of  duty  press  upon  you.  I  fear  that  disappointed 
hopes  and  failing  fortunes  may  distress  some  of  you;  I  am 
sure  that  the  weight  of  years  is  now  laid  upon  those  who 
have  survived  their  comrades. 

Repeating  the  message  of  our  beloved  State,  I  entreat 
you  to  come  away  from  your  cares  and  sorrows  to-day,  and 
let  us  stand,  with  hearts  aglow,  and  with  uplifted  heads,  in 
the  presence  of  our  heroic  past. 

The  day  invites' us.  It  is  our  Independence  Day.  It  is 
our  day  of  glorious  memories.  Now,  and  through  all  the 
years  to  come,  it  is  our  Confederate  Monument  Day.  For 
this  day  our  mountains  have  given  their  fairest  treasure 
into  the  hands  of  woman,  and  she  has  brought  this  treas- 
ure reverently  into  our  midst.  Our  brothers  have  taken  it 
gratefully  from  her  hands  and  laid  the  stone  in  its  place. 
We  watch  and  wait  with  swelling  hearts.  Voices  fall  upon 
the  ear  again  that  have  been  still  since  our  camp-fires  went 
out.  We  feel  the  touch  of  elbows  again  ;  our  lines  are  form- 
ing; our  ensigns  stream  above  us;  our  bugles  are  calling. 
The  stone  which  you  have  laid  in  its  place  to-day,  my  broth- 
ers, shall  be  lifted  up ;  and,  by  its  side  and  from  its  summit, 
he  shall  look  into  our  faces  again,  our  comrade,  our  brother ; 
"  bone  of  our  bones  and  flesh  of  our  flesh  " ;  brave  as  he 
who  followed  the  Eagles  of  Rome,  or  the  Lilies  of  France, 


our  Confederate  brother:  he  who  was  first  at  Bethel;  he 
who  was  nearest  the  foe  at  Gettysburg;  he  whose  rifle  gave 
the  last  salute  to  the  flag  which  was  folded  with  immortal 
honor. 

We  have  waited  long  enough  to  consecrate  this  stone. 
History  approves  and  demands  it.  They  who  were  our 
foes,  but  who  are  now  our  friends,  ask  that  it  be  done.  The 
passiug  years  have  laid  their  hands,  in  blessing,  upon  the 
head  of  our  comrade,  and  deepened  the  halo  about  his 
name.  If  the  courage  of  the  soldier,  untainted  b}'  evil 
purpose,  is  the  noblest  gift  of  time;  if  the  memory  of  Grant 
is  sacred  ;  if  the  name  of  Lee  is  our  priceless  heritage,  then 
have  we  waited  long  enough  to  dedicate  this  stone  to  the 
memory'of  the  North  Carolina  Confederate  soldier. 

What  moved  him  to  leave  his  plow  in  the  furrow  that  he 
might  struggle,  unto  death,  with  his  brother  of  the  North? 
Was  he  not  happy  at  home?  Did  he  not  love  his  wife  and 
children  ?  Had.  he  not  hewn  from  the  forest  his  fruitful 
fields?  Were  not  his  barns  filled  with  rich  harvests?  Had 
he  no  altars  at  which  to  worship?  Had  he  no  name  or 
history  to  love  and  cherish  ?  Was  he  not  taught  to  rever- 
ence the  Constitution  next  to  his  Bible?  Was  he  a  dis- 
turber of  the  peace,  a  hater  of  his  fellow-man  ?  Did  not 
all  the  graces  of  a  generous  host  adorn  his  fire-side?  Did 
the  sun,  iu  his  course,  shine  upon  a  fairer  land  than  his? 
What  moved  him  to  leave  his  hearth-stone  and  go  forth, 
with  darkened  brow  and  compressed  lip,  to  struggle  and 
die  ? 

We  know  that  no  lust  of  power,  no  worldly  gain,  no 
pride  of  life  moved  him.  He  was  never  an  aggressor.  His 
keen  sense  of  what  was  due  to  himself  made  him  careful 
of  the  rights  of  others.  So  careful  was  he,  so  regardful  of 
his  acts,  so  cautious  in  moving  forward,  so  contented  with 
the  portion  which  God  and  his  own  right  arm  had  given 


him  that  his  neighbors  bantered  him  tor  his  homely  vir- 
tues, and  likened  him  to  the  good-natured  Dutchman  who 
was  said  to  have  fallen  into  such  peaceful  repose  that  he  slept 
until  the  stock  of  his  fowling-piece  crumbled  with  decay  at 
his  side.  And  yet,  our  good-natured,  sleeping  comrade 
suddenly  awoke  to  such  deeds  of  valor  that  "the  world 
wondered,"  and  declared  that  he  must  take  his  place  with 
heroes,  while  his  neighbors  were  happy  to  share  the  glory 
of  his  deeds. 

What  moved  this  peace-loving.  God-fearing,  coutented 
man;  happy  within  the  shadow  of  the  vine  that  climbed 
about  his  cottage  door,  to  go  forth  against  his  brother  of  the 
North?  Let  a  true  answer  be  given.  Let  it  not  be  said, 
that  in  a  moment  of  unreasoning  haste,  he  tore  asunder 
the  ties  of  home  and  kindled  and  rushed,  like  a  madman, 
upon  the  sword  of  his  adversary.  Mis  four  years  of  hard 
endurance  gives  higher  meaning  to  his  courage.  Rather, 
let  it  be  said  of  him  that  he  loved  the  union  of  these  States. 
The  blood  which  flowed  in  his  veins,  unmixed  with  alloy, 
had  warmed  the  hearts  of  the  men  who  struck  the  first 
blow  for  independence.  In  the  county  of  Alamance,  hard 
by  the  old  stage-road  that  leads  from  Hillsboro  to  Salisbury, 
a  stone  has  been  planted,  and  on  it  are  engraved  these 
words:  "First  battle  of  the  Revolution.  Here  was  fought 
the  battle  of  Alamance,  the  loth  of  May,  1771,  between 
the  British  and  the  Regulators."  Here,  by  this  stone,  was 
poured  out  the  first  libation  to  American  independence. 
Four  years  thereafter,  on  the  20th  of  May.  1775,  the  listen- 
ing ear  of  North  Carolina  heard  the  cry  that  the  men  of 
Massachusetts  had  been  slain  at  Lexington.  And  no  more, 
save  from  hostile  camps,  did  the  ensign  of  Britain  wave 
over  her  soil.  Then,  it  was  enough  for  her  to  know  that 
the  invader's  foot  was  upon  the  soil  of  a  sister  State.  Can 
the  sous  of  Massachusetts  ever  forget  how  the  battle-cry  of 


(3 


Lexington  was  answered?  Can  they  ever  forget  how  they 
and  the  sons  of  North  Carolina  locked  their  shields  until 
King  George,  on  the  20th  day  of  January,  1783,  calling 
each  one  of  them  by  name,  treating  with  each  one  of  them, 
declared  these  States  '■  to  be  free,  sovereign  and  independ- 
ent?'5 

Let  it  he  said  of  our  comrade,  that  he  loved  the  Union, 
but  let  it  also  be  said  of  him,  his  proud  lineage  taught  him 
that  his  own  beloved  State  and  her  sister  States  were  sov- 
ereigns. He  remembered  how  those  whose  name  he  bore 
had  refused  to  enter  the  Union,  under  the  Constitution, 
until  the  sovereignty  of  North  Carolina  and  the  liberties  of 
her  citizens  had  been  assured.  In  all  the  years  of  peace, 
while  he  tilled  his  fields  and  reared  his  children,  he  had 
been  taught  to  guard  this  treasure  committed  to  him  with 
that  supreme  devotion  with  which  the  sons  of  Israel  guarded 
the  walls  about  their  sacred  city.  In  all  these  years  of 
peace  he  rejoiced  in  the  strength  and  glory  of  the  Union  as 
it  broadened  towards  the  setting  sun.  By  the  fire-side  he 
had  heard  his  sire  tell  of  1812,  and  of  Lundy's  Lane,  and 
how  he  marched  against  the  Indians  with  the  warrior  Jack- 
son, whom  North  Carolina  gave,  with  many  other  noble 
gifts,  to  her  fair  daughter  beyond  the  mountains.  He,  him- 
self, had  marched  with  the  Star-spangled  banner  and 
cheered  it  as  it  waved  in  triumph  over  the  halls  of  the 
Montezumas. 

Let  it  be  said  of  him  that  he  loved  the  Union,  that  he 
loved  the  carts  of  peace,  that  he  loved  repose,  but  let  it  also 
be  said  of  him,  his  repose  was  never  so  profound  that  the 
tramp  of  the  advancing  host  failed  to  arouse  him. 

In  1861,  as  in  1775,  his  sensitive  ear  caught  the  first 
foot-fall  of  the  foe  upon  the  soil  of  the  State  that  holds  the 
ashes  of  Washington.  It  was  enough.  The  plow  stood 
still  in  the  furrow,  the  trembling  wife  held  to  his  breast  his 


first-born,  the  unuttered  good-bye  was  said  with  quivering- 
lips  and  straining  eves,  the  door  of  his  home  closed  behind 
him,  and  he  went  forth  to  battle.  By  his  side,  through  all 
the  fiery  struggle,  be  it  said,  was  one  whose  love  for  him 
was  as  the  love  of  Jonathan  for  David,  giving  him  strength 
and  comfort,  caring  for  the  stricken  ones  whom  he  had  left 
behind,  guarding  the  honor  of  the  cause  for  which  he  bled, 
and  when  all  seemed  lost  save  honor,  leading  him,  by  wise 
counsels,  away  from  the  sorrows  of  war  to  the  victories  of 
peace.  We  would  that  this  one  were  with  us  to-day!  How 
our  hearts  would  burn*  within  us  to  hear  his  voice,  and  look 
into  his  face  again!  But  he  sleeps  well  where  we  have  laid 
him,  with  our  love  for  him  as  lasting  as  the  mountains  that 
guard  his  resting-place— our  great  war  Governor  and  leader, 
but,  as  we  tenderly  think  of  him  now,  our  comrade  and 
brother,  Vance! 

Tt  was  strange  and  terrible  to  see  these  men  of  the  South 
and  of  the  North  shed  each  other's  blood.  They  spoke  the 
same  language,  they  worshiped  at  the  same  altars,  they 
had  been  school-boys  together,  they  had  shouted  together 
in  the  .-hock  of  battle,  and  together  they  had  filled  the 
world  with  their  victories  of  peace.  No  ray  of  light  touched 
the  glory  of'  their  country  that  did  not  fall,  with  its  bene- 
diction, upon  them  both.  And  yet,  above  the  contentions 
of  the  White  and  Red  Hose,  of  Cavalier  and  Roundhead, 
of  Bourbon  and  Jacobin,  there  was  a  solemn  grandeur  in 
their  struggle  Can  the  Union  live  by  force?  The  North 
answered  yes:  the  South  answered  no.  And  this  moment- 
ous question  of  government  was  to  be  settled  in  the  storm  v 
comitia  of  arms.  Each  thought  he  had  "  his  quarrel  just," 
and  thus,  thrice-armed,  they  strove.  Two  millions  of  the 
men  of  the  North  stood  to  arms;  six  hundred  thousand  of 
the  men  of  the  South  stood  to  arms.  How  grandly  they 
strove,  shaking  the  ocean  with  the  tramp  of  monitor  and 


ram,  and  teaching  new  warfare  to  the  nations  of  the  earth.' 
How  they  strove,  while  the  storm  of  battle  howled  up  the 
valleys,  and  over  the  mountains,  and  across  the  plains, 
shrieking  and  hissing  into  the  ear  of  the  pale  wife  as  she 
knelt  by  the  bedside  of  her  children  and  prayed  for  the 
husband,  against  whose  breast  the  pitiless  storm  was  beat- 
ing! How  they  strove,  while  their  flocks  and  harvests  per- 
ished, and  their  homes  grew  desolate,  and  want  and  hunger 
came,  and  through  the  dreary  watches  of  the  night  the 
widowed  mother  sat  looking,  with  wan  and  weary  face, 
upon  the  dying  child  in  her  arms,  while  the  currents  of  its 
life  ran  dry  in  her  aching  breast!  Brave  women  of  our 
land,  what  tongue  can  tell  your  devotion  !  There  was  no 
soldier's  arm  you  did  not  nerve ;  there  was  no  soldier's 
couch  of  suffering  you  did  not  pillow  with  your  gentle 
hands  ;  there  is  no  soldier's  grave  your  love  has  left  unblest! 

If  history  shall  say  of  these  men  of  the  South  and  of  the 
North  that  they  sinned  in  going  to  battle  against  each 
other,  it  will  be  sure  to  say  also,  that  their  rich  offering  of 
blood  has  opened  wide  the  everlasting  mansions  of  glor\T 
for  the  cause  each  fought  for. 

How  did  our  comrade  bear  himself  in  this  supreme  test 
of  virtue?  Let  us  follow  his  shining  lance,  and  see  the 
grim  face  of  war  radiant  with  the  sublime  courage  of  the 
soldier.  History  startles  us  with  its  record:  a  military  pop- 
ulation of  one  hundred  an-d  fifteen  thousand  men  ;  an  army 
of  one  hundred  and  twenty-five  thousand  men  !  In  all 
the  annals  of  the  earth  is  there  a  nobler  record  of  heroic 
endeavor? 

Let  us  follow  our  brothers  as  they  pour  over  the  James, 
thirty  thousand  of  them,  in  the  June  days  of  1862,  encir- 
cling Richmond  with  their  dark  gray  lines,  near  one-third 
of  those  who  had  gathered  for  its  defense;  standing  with 
their  faces  to  the    North,  waiting  for  the  struggle  of  the 


Seven  Days  to  begin;  waiting  for  Jackson,  the  eagle  of  the 
army,  to  swoop  down  from  the  mountain;  waiting  for  Lee 
to  speak,  whose  voice  in  battle  was,  to  them,  from  that  day 
forward,  as  the  voice  of  a  god;  and  when  he  told  them  to 
go  forward,  see  how  they  and  their  comrades  twist  McClel- 
lan's  army,  with  their  stern  grapple,  back  and  forth  across 
the  Chickahominy,  striking  him  blows  of  iron,  day  in  and 
day  out,  until  sore  and  weary,  as  the  day  closed  upon  the 
field  of  Gaine's  Mill,  he  sat  down  and  wrote  to  his  govern- 
ment that  he  was  beaten,  and  that  his  only  hope  was  to 
escape  from  his  fierce  pursuers;  and,  five  days  thereafter 
Lee  rode  back  from  Malvern  Hill  praising  his  soldiers  and 
regretting  that  he  had  not  captured  the  Union  army.  See 
how  they  go,  on  the  morning  of  the  17th  of  September, 
1862,  double-quicking  from  the  right  to  the  bloody  left,  at 
Sharpsburg,  sweeping  proudly  into  line,  and  staying,  like  a 
wall  of  granite,  the  torrent  of  battle,  as  it  comes  rushing  in 
over  the  dead  bodies  of  Hood's  brave  Texans;  see  how  the 
foe  recoils  from  the  deadly  blast  of  their  rifles;  see  how 
they  drive  him  back,  with  yells  of  defiance,  restoring  our 
lines,  and  standing  in  their  ranks  through  the  da"y,  and 
through  another  day,  as  firmly  as  the  solid  earth  beneath 
them.  Read  the  record  of  their  daring  at  Chancellorsville, 
the  death-bed  of  Jackson,  in  the  early  May  days  of  1863: 
One  hundred  and  thirty-one  Confederate  regiments  under 
fire — twenty-five  of  them  from  North  Carolina;  ten  thou- 
sand two  hundred  and  eighty-one  Confederates  killed  and 
wounded — two  thousand  nine  hundred  and  forty-eight  of 
them  from  North  Carolina.  See  how  they  wave  their  torn 
battle-flags  above  the  crest  of  the  struggle  at  Gettysburg,  as 
it  moves  along  its  track  of  death,  up  the  slopes  of  Cemetery 
Hill,  surging  forward  with  the  throbbing  of  their  hearts: 
and  when  the  fateful  storm  is  over,  where  the  crest  of  the 
battle  rose  highest,  there  lies  our  comrade  bv  the  side  of  him 


10 


of  the  North,  whom  the  peace  of  death  has  made  again  his 
brother.  As  we  look  into  their  faces,  side  by  side,  the  one- 
clad  in  gray,  the  other  in  blue,  each  aglow  with  the  spirit 
that  has  brought  them  thus  together  to  the  open  portals  of 
immortality,  can  we  say  of  either  that  he  has  sinned  ?  Shall 
we  follow  our  brothers  as  they  hold  in  check  the  unbend- 
ing will  and  mighty  forces  of  Grant,  through  the  fire  and 
smoke  of  the  Wilderness,  in  the  trenches  at  Petersburg, 
along  the  sullen  retreat  until  the  end  came,  and  Lee  bade 
them  adieu,  with  his  blessing,  which  has  followed  them,  and 
made  them,  like  him.  patieut  and  heroic  in  peace  as  they 
were  great  in  war ''. 

Shall  we  measure  the  glory  of  our  comrade  by  the  treas- 
ure of  his  blood?  Then  read  this  record:  Fifty-two  thou- 
sand uiue  "hundred  and  fifty-tour  Confederates  killed  in  bat- 
tle— fourteen  thousand  five  hundred  and  twenty-two  of  them 
from  North  Carolina;  twenty-one  thousand  five  hundred 
and  seventy  Confederates  died  of  wounds — five  thousand 
one  hundred  and  fifty-one  of  them  from  North  Carolina ; 
fifty-nine  thousand  two  hundred  and  ninety-seven  Confed- 
erates died  of  disease — twenty  thousand  six  hundred  and 
two  of  them  from  North  Carolina.  Forty  thousand  two 
hundred  and  seventy-five  sons  of  North  Carolina  gave  their 
lives  to  the  Confederacy — more  than  one-third  of  her  mili- 
tary population  :  nineteen  thousand  six  hundred  and  sev- 
enty-three of  her  sous  were  killed  in  battle  or  died  of 
wounds— more  than  seven teeu  per  cent,  of  her  military  pop- 
ulation— while  the  average  loss  of  the  Confederate  armies 
was  ten  per  cent,  and  of  the  Union  armies  five  per  cent, 
Read  this  record  of  the  Twenty-sixth  North  Carolina  Regi- 
ment of  Pettigrew's  Brigade  at  Gettysburg,  the  conflict  of 
the  century  :  It  carried  into  action  over  eight  hundred  men  : 
eisrhtv  of  them  were  left;  and  historv  has  declared  ''this 
loss  of  the  Twenty-sixth  North  Carolina  at  Gettysburg  was 


11 


the  severest  regimental  loss  during  the  war,"  in  which  seven 
hundred  and  sixty-four  Confederate  regiments  and  two 
thousand  and  forty-seven  Union  regiments  were  engaged. 
Read  the  thrilling  story  of  Captain  Tuttle's  company  on 
the  same  field  of  death,  that  lost  all  its  officers  and  eighty- 
three  out  of  eighty-four  of  its  men  killed  and  wounded, 
and  of  Captain  Bird's  Company  C,  of  the  Eleventh  North 
Carolina,  of  this  same  noble  brigade,  that  lost  two  of  its 
officers  and  thirty-four  out  of  thirty-eight  of  its  men  killed 
and  wounded  in  the  engagements  of  the  first  two  days, 
and  these  four  who  remained  took  their  places  in  the  his- 
toric charge  of  the  third  of  July  ;  and  when  his  flag-bearer 
was  shot  down  "  the  captain  brought  out  the  flag  himself." 

Near  the  town  of  Winchester,  in  Virginia,  they  set  apart 
a  soldier's  resting-place,  after  peace  had  come,  and  when 
those  of  our  sister  State,  who  loved  the  memory  of  the 
brave,  had  brought  thither  the  soldiers  of  the  Confederacy 
who  had  fallen  near  their  homes,  lo!  the  dead  of  North 
Carolina  held  so  large  a  space  among  their  comrades  of 
other  States  that  this  silent  witness  moved  their  hearts  to 
reverence,  and  they  sent  here  for  our  beloved  comrade, 
Vance,  to  come  and  speak  to  them  of  these  men  whose 
noble  dust  gave  honor  to  the  soil  of  Virginia. 

Shall  we  say  of  the  Confederate  soldier  that  he  died  in 
vain?  Shall  we  say  of  his  mighty  struggle  that  it  has  no 
higher  meaning  than  defeat?  Shall  we  stand  above  his 
grave  and  declare  that  all  was  lost  but  honor?  From  the 
smoking  altar  of  his  sacrifice  is  there  no  incense  to  virtue? 
Does  the  world  bless  him.  only,  who  wears  a  crown  of  lau- 
rel ?  Is  there  no  beauty  on  the  brow  that  wears  a  crown  of 
thorns?  Were  the  oracles  of  God  lost  to  men  when  His  cho- 
sen people  passed  under  the  yoke  of  Rome?  Were  the  laws 
and  language  of  Rome  lost  to  the  world  when  the  Goth 
struck  down  her  eagles?  Was  Cromwell  lost  to  Britain 
when  the  Stuart  came  back  to  her  throne  ? 


12 


The  Confederate  soldier  lias  not  died  in  vain.  History 
will  tell  the  story  of  his  death  and  passion,  that  men  may 
be  lifted  up  by  the  example  of  his  devotion  to  the  memory 
of  his  fathers.  If  they  did  not  die  in  vain  who  fell  at 
Moore's  Creek  Bridge,  at  King's  Mountain,  at  Guilford,  at 
Germantown,  at  Brandy  wine,  at  Princeton,  then  their  sons 
did  not  die  in  vain  who  fell  at  Bethel,  at  Manassas,  at  Rich- 
mond, at  Sharpsburg,  at  Fredericksburg,  at  Chancellors- 
ville,  at  Gettysburg,  and  on  every  field,  where  they  sealed, 
with  their  blood  the  covenant  made  with  their  fathers  that 
this  should  be  a  Union  of  sovereign  States,  with  a  govern- 
ment of  express  powers,  limited  by  the  letter  of  the  writ- 
ten compact.  For  this  covenant  they  died.  That  no  sin- 
ful hand  might  be  laid  upon  it,  they  took  up  arms.  That 
no  jot  or  tittle  of  it  might  fail,  they  drew  the  sword.  The 
cause 'for  which  they  died  is  not  the  lost  cause  of  a  dead 
Confederacy,  but  it  is  the  vital  cause  of  a  living  Union,  its 
soul  and  strength,  its  only  hope  of  future  life,  and  without 
which  it  will  dissolve  and  pass  away  like  the  smile  of  a 
dream  upon  the  wrinkled  face  of  time. 

The  Confederate  soldier  has  not  died  in  vain.  The  les- 
son he  has  left  us  is  the  only  lesson  that  can  save  the  life 
of  our  Union.  When  history  shall  call  the  names  of  those 
who  have  been  truest  to  their  trust  in  the  ranks  of  war  the 
men  of  the  gray  uniform  will  answer  to  their  names  and 
take  their  places  in  the  world's  Legion  of  Honor. 

My  brothers,  the  memory  of  your  comrade  will  not  fade. 
In  the  twilight  of  the  years  to  come  it  will  be  as  the  luminous 
star  which  led  the  Eastern  worshippers,  where  a  new  Life  had 
come  to  abide  among  men  long  enough  to  teach  them  how 
to  live  like  heroes  and  die  like  martyrs.  The  daughters  of 
North  Carolina  will  point  our  children  and  our  children's 
children  to  that  star.  They  will  never  turn  their  faces 
from  the  Confederate  soldier.     They  gave  you  your  battle- 


13 


flags  wet  with  the  dew  of  their  tears,  and  in  that  sign  and 
with  their  prayers  yon  made  the  name  of  North  Carolina 
noble.  With  each  returning  spring-time  the  grave  of  your 
comrade  blooms  out  afresh  as  they  lay  their  hands  upon  it- 
To-day  they  have  embalmed  his  memory  in  stone.  They 
have  given  you  this  token  of  their  love,  that  shall  not  fail. 
Let  us  lift  up  this  token  of  their  love,  my  brothers  !  The 
light  of  the  morning  will  bless  it,  the  glory  of  the  evening 
will  hallow  it,  the  patient  stars  will  watch  over  it,  and  the 
calm  face  of  our  comrade  will  teach  us  courage  for  to-day 
and  hope  for  the  morrow. 

Ye  men  who  wore  the  gray,  you  who  have  been  brave  in 
peace  as  you  have  been  strong  in  war.  You  have  lifted 
North  Carolina  up, in  your  arms  and  made  her  as  true  to 
■our  Union  as  the  bride  is  true  to  her  marriage  vows.  By 
your  patience,  peace  and  order  and  hope  are  ours.  Else- 
where in  our  Union  there  is  trouble.  Social  disorder  vexes 
the  soul  of  the  patriot,  and  the  cry  of  distress  pains  the 
heart  of  him  who  loves  his  fellow-man.  Teach  others  the 
lesson  of  your  patience.  Teach  them  to  right  the  wrong, 
as  you  have  done,  by  the  wisdom  of  the  law,  and  the  purity 
of  its  administration.  Teach  them  to  be  true,  each  to  his 
sovereign  State,  as  you  are  true  to  North  Carolina.  And 
by  this  shrine,  which  her  daughters  have  consecrated  with 
their  love,  let  us  to-day  renew  our  vows  to  our  Sovereign 
Queen,  the  brightest  jewel  in  whose  crown  is  the  memory 
of  her  soldiers  whom  she  gave  to  the  Confederacy. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  N.C.  AT  CHAPEL  HILL 


00032758864 


This  book  may  be  kept  out  one  month  unless  a  recall 
notice  is  sent  to  you.  It  must  be  brought  to  the  North 
Carolina  Collection  (in  Wilson  Library)  for  renewal. 


